


Take a Better Look

by resolute



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9112624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resolute/pseuds/resolute
Summary: Certainly this is not how Antonia Stark and Pepper Potts met ... but it might be!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likeadeuce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/gifts).



> For Likeadeuce, part of [this quiet little fic exchange](http://harriet-vane.dreamwidth.org/837149.html).

Hiring Dylan had seemed like a good idea at the time. It spared Tony the looks and disapproval from her receptionist if her nooner _was_ her receptionist. But the phone didn't get answered while Tony rode him on her desk, and he had a terribly weak imagination besides. Worst of all, Dylan was some sort of juice-guzzling nutrition freak and he wouldn't get high with her.

Franchesca was a very, very good receptionist. She did seem to think that she and Tony were in some sort of competition, though. Which was silly. Tony didn't compete with anyone, over anything. Anyone alive, that is. The race against ghosts was never-ending and Tony never seemed to manage to pull ahead. But Franchesca competed in looks, and clothes, and shoes, and men, and finally the race got too much for her income and Tony fired her the moment Franchesca embezzled her first thousand. 

Pepper Potts didn't stand out as a receptionist. Not at first. She didn't flirt, she didn't compete, she didn't steal, she didn't insert herself into meetings, she didn't opine. It took Tony six days before she realized that nothing had gone wrong in the office. Not a single thing.

On Tuesday morning Tony overslept at home. She took a conference call with the vice-ambassador-royal of Qatar while in bed with her latest fuckbuddy asleep next to her. She drank her lunch and spent the afternoon in the workshop. And the evening. And the night. And some portion of the next day, she lost track, and what _is_ time, really, anyway? At some point on Thursday -- it was probably Thursday, Jarvis said it was while she was looking for her shoes -- Tony wandered back to the office. Potts was at her desk, just outside Tony's office. 

Everything was quiet.

Tony sat on Potts's desk. "Morning, O my delight. May I say you look lovely today?"

"Afternoon."

Tony smiled rakishly. She knew she looked like the bad boy in a tweener band when she did so. It was a look that inevitably disarmed women. "My apologies. Good afternoon."

Potts looked up and smiled. "Good afternoon, Ms. Stark." She went back to reading whatever it was on her computer. 

Tony was affronted. She sat on the desk for a few moments and glanced around. The other employees were working steadily. Some on calls, some talking at each other's desks. The administration of her company was … just fine. And Potts didn't seem to notice or care that Tony was on her desk wearing Wookie pajamas and no shoes. "How's things going," Tony finally said, irritated that she had to ask.

"Excellently," Potts replied. "Things are going excellently." She finished reading whatever it was, nodded, and typed something brief.

Tony felt … unnecessary. Ignored. Small. It was not a good feeling. She reached into the pocket of her Wookies and found a flask. She took a swig and offered the extremely expensive brandy to Potts. "Drink?"

"Yes please," Potts said, taking the flask. "Thank you." She took a small sip and made a toasting motion. "To our success in Nigeria!"

Tony blinked. "Yes," she replied, "our success in Nigeria!" She tried to remember anything from the past few days about Nigeria. Perhaps she should have listened more carefully to the things Jarvis had insisted on telling her while she worked.

Potts reached under the desk to the near-silent printer, a Tony Stark Special, and produced a short document. She read it over briefly, nodding at a few points, then placed it on the desk next to Tony's thigh. Potts handed Tony a pen. "You need to sign the last page to make it final."

"Obviously, yes," Tony said, still unsure what was happening. She picked up the first page and began to read. _I, Antonia Stark, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my possessions to Virgina Potts_ \-- Tony jerked and stared at Potts. "What the hell is this?"

Potts leaned back in her chair and laughed. Not a mean laugh, not sarcastic, the sort of edged laugh Tony instantly recognized. It was instead a delighted laugh, full-throated and joyous. Potts clapped her hands together, once, twice, and -- wait, was she actually _kicking her heels_ in delight? Why yes, she was. "Perfect," Potts said. She smiled at Tony. "Perfect. You pass, ma'am. Flying colors."

Tony stood up, with the full weight of dignity a Wookie onesie could bear. "Explain yourself, Ms. Potts."

"I needed to know whether you are or are not the completely reckless dumbass you give every impression of being," Potts said. "I won't work for someone who doesn't value what I do, what we do, together." She stood, leaning towards Tony, her gaze level and lit and very unsettling. "I won't work for a woman who puts her employees at risk, who can't or won't pay attention to the institutions we build." Potts put her hand on the forged version of Tony's last will and testament. "I won't work for an idiot who doesn't read what she signs."

Tony let it slide, then. Let the flippancy and the fuckit fall away. Tony tilted her head to one side, popping the crick in her neck. She met Potts's very intent stare. "I always read what I sign, Ms. Potts."

Neither woman blinked.

The sarcasm and insouciance rolled back in. Tony took another swig of brandy. "Do we not, then, have a deal in … Nigeria? Was Nigeria real, or was that as much fiction as your little theft of my company on my death? And, Ms. Potts, do reassure me, the rest of that document is lorem ipsum, correct?"

Potts stepped back and collected the fake will, running it through a Stark-patent-pending document destroyer. Tony could faintly smell the odor of paper ash. "Nigeria is real," Potts said. "You actually okayed that one through Jarvis last night." She raised an eyebrow at Tony.

Another challenge. "Of course!" Tony felt relief. She remembered this now. "Something about shoes and capacitors. Obviously."

"Obviously." Potts sat down and went back to reviewing things on her computer. "You planning on taking root here, next to my desk, or … "

Tony shook her head. "Of course not. There's a much comfier couch in my office." She shuffled towards the door. "Don't wake me if anyone calls -- "

" -- Wouldn't think of it," Potts replied, not looking up.

"Perfect," Tony muttered. She smiled as she closed the door behind her.

-fin-


End file.
